


The Dark W

by j520j



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, fluff and sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j520j/pseuds/j520j
Summary: Wilson never found his soulmate. Perhaps because he was not looking in the right place?
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	The Dark W

There are about 250 different forms of soulmarks already cataloged in human history, some more common in certain regions of the planet than others. These brands were responsible for creating the alphabet - Greek, Chinese, Latin, Cyrillic, etc. So it was common for parents to give their children names that resembled the 'letters' they had on their bodies.

Wilson's was a black letter W on the left wrist. And his soulmate should have been born with the same mark in the same place.

Since he was a teenager, the young scientist was always looking for someone whose name started with the letter W. Who knows, maybe that person was his Soulmate? His parents tried to reassure him, saying that his soulmate's parents could've decided to give the child a name that started with M -which also made sense, depending on the position in which the mark is viewed. Or, simply, ignore the soulmark and give him or her a name that starts with another letter.

At least the mark was on the wrist, which meant that Wilson could politely ask everyone, whose name began with W or M, to roll up their sleeves. There were people whose soulmarks appeared in places that were more difficult to see, such as the back, the top of the head (covered by hair) or the groin.

Time went by and there was no sign that his soulmate would appear. The truth was, not everyone in the world had this privilege.

Some soulmates simply lived on the other side of the world, never meeting. Others died too soon. Others simply married another. After all, it was possible for you to bond with people of different soulmarks, it was even possible for the couple to be happy - but it would always be happy with something missing.

There were companies and institutions that helped people find their soulmates since the beginning of civilization. Wilson tried to use them. They found people with the letter W ... but in a different color, different size and in parts of the body that were far from the wrist.

When he turned 30, Wilson gave up looking and decided to focus only on science.

  
............. 

"You!" Wilson shouted, dropping the axe and rolling up his sleeves. "Now you'll get what you deserve!"

"Hey, w-wait...!"

The scientist didn't wait a single second. He advanced on Maxwell, full of fury in his eyes. He didn't want to kill him (he had already seen the magician disintegrate in front of him when he freed him from the throne - the answer to the question of how he came back would be for later) he just wanted to beat him up. Break that stupid nose and leave him with both black eyes. Yes, he would actually turn off that demon's lights and then leave him to starve in that place, just as he did to Wilson several times.

"The light... THE LIGHT!!!" Maxwell shouted.

In desperation, Wilson ran to the firepit and threw wood into the flames. Woa! That was close!

The two men stared at each other, the anger inside Wilson began to subside. He was still furious, but he was also in pain. The magician hit him a few times during the fight... oh, that would have a payback! But for now, the two had no choice but to sit by the fire and rest for a while during the night.

It took a few minutes for the scientist to realize that the taller man was looking intently at him.

"What are you looking at?!" he snarled, annoyed.

"Your arm..." he murmured, looking a little worried. "It's the first time that I see you with your sleeves rolled up."

"And?!" the scientist covered his arms with the sleeves of his undershirt again. “Take care of your bussiness! And when the sun rises, I want you out of here! You are not welcome in my camp!”

Maxwell didn't answer. He looked disappointed. But not because of the scientist's harsh words, but for another reason.

............. 

Time passed and Maxwell didn't leave. Despite what he had said, Wilson lacked the courage to let a thin, frail old man fend for himself in that dangerous world. Even though it was this same thin, fragile old man who created it to torment other people.

The scientist felt like a complete idiot.

Summer was approaching and the days were getting hotter. Wilson now always worked with his sleeves rolled up. He would love to work shirtless, although he knew it would result in skin burns from the strong sun. He needed to find a way to develop a sunscreen as soon as possible with his alchemy machine. Maxwell did little work, his puppets did most of the heavy job, but the magician was engaged in some more delicate tasks, like drawing new blueprints. He even had a talent for it. He didn't need to remove his clothes because of the heat, so he just went without his jacket while he worked.

The scientist approached him shortly after collecting some green mushrooms in the forest. The two were working on a portal that, according to the magician, would help the two escape from there. Wilson wasn't so sure, everything the magician said Wilson was always careful.

"This on your left wrist ..." the magician said suddenly. "... is it a soulmark?"

"Here?" Wilson looked at his own wrist. He often forgot about the mark. "It is. Why? I'm sure you've seen several of them out there.”

"Yes, I already saw lots of them."

There was a silence. Wilson continued to work on building a new chest, but he could feel the magician's eyes piercing him in the back.

“Your mark looks like a letter W.”

"No shit, Sherlock!" the scientist grunted. "This was the reason that made my parents give me the name 'Wilson'. Well, my mom had come up with a name with the letter 'M', but in the end she agreed with my dad and I was registered as Wilson Percival Higgsbury. ”

"Hm." the magician nodded. "And you... found them?"

"Found who?"

"Your soulmate."

Wilson turned angrily to Maxwell. That subject, despite being forgotten, was still a sensitive topic.

“If I had found my soulmate, do you think I would be living like a hermit in a cabin in the middle of a forest in Connecticut? No, I would be living with my soulmate! I mean... if he or she accepted me.”

"What do you mean‘ if ’, pal?"

"Heh, I didn't think you were the romantic type!" Wilson gave a bitter laugh. “You know that, although these marks have existed since the beginning of humanity, it's not that simple, right? There are many people who, despite finding their soulmate, do not keep them. I have known at least one case like this: a girl found her boy, but this boy was a complete lazy moron, a failure. Although painful, the two didn't stay together. She married someone who could look after her properly.”

"Are you telling me that you don't believe that soulmates can have happy marriages?"

“Oh, I believe it! My parents are an example of this. They are a couple of soulmates and are very happy. I met other couples like that too. But these kinds of cases are the rarest, aren't they? Nowadays, with billions of human beings in the world, even with all the technology and the companies that help in these cases, finding your soulmate is not easy.”

"So... you never found them?"

"No." Wilson wanted to get it over with as soon as possible and get back to work. “And I don't care anymore. My true love today is science. ”

He turned his back on the magician and continued to work on the chest. He had more urgent things to think about than going back to those stupid old teenage dreams, of finding his soulmate and being happy forever, like in fairy tales. Before he picked up the hammer again, Maxwell knelt before him. Wilson opened his mouth to ask what he wanted, but no sound came out of it when the magician rolled up his left sleeve.

On his wrist was a black W mark.

............. 

Sad stories involving enemy soulmates in literature were not uncommon.

There was the Greek tragedy of the two soldiers, one from Troy and the other Greek, who fought each other. When the Trojan killed the Greek, he soon noticed in his dead opponent's bloody body that he was his soulmate. There were medieval ballads of maidens who hated a man all their lives, only to discover that they were soulmates and the maiden committed suicide in disgust in the end. There was at least one well-documented case in recent history, about Napoleon Bonaparte and the Duke of Wellington having discovered, after the Battle of Waterloo, that they were soulmates. The two lived together during the exile of the ex-French emperor, although they were not a particularly happy couple - the shadow of war and past sorrows still weighing on their hearts.

Wilson lost some sanity when he discovered that Maxwell was his soulmate.

The denial, the anger, the pathetic bargaining attempt ("No, it's a mistake! This mark is not a W is an M!") sadness and... finally, acceptance. That demon, who tricked and trapped him in that crazy world, was really his soulmate.

Well, that meant nothing. This couldn't mean forgiveness. Wilson still hated Maxwell for what he had done. Right?

The magician kept his distance. He knew that he had no right to try to get any kind of understanding between them, after all that had happened. Even so, there were still some questions the scientis wanted to ask.

"How old are you?"

"Me?" the magician raised an eyebrow. "It depends. I stopped aging in 1906, when I was 42 years old. I would turn 43 in October. But if we were to take into account the time when I kidnapped you, 1921, I would now be 57.”

"So, we are 22 years apart. I turned 35 in 1921." the scientist looked surprised. "This is... weird."

"Not really, pal." the magician shrugged. “There're cases where the age difference between soulmates is even greater, from thirty to forty years old. Heck, many are already born with their soulmates dead. Unfortunately, it's something that happens. ”

“Well, if you ‘stopped aging’ at 42, then that gap between us has narrowed to just seven years.”

"Does it matter now?"

"No!" Wilson hastened to say, getting up to go across the camp to take care of his affairs. "You're right, it doesn't matter anymore."

............. 

Wilson couldn't handle it.

He thought he could do it, but no... he couldn't! Ignoring Maxwell and that revelation was getting harder and harder, no matter how hard he tried to rationalize.

Why did Wilson so easily believe the words of a complete stranger talking to him on the radio? Why did he feel sad when he saw his former enemy disintegrate before him when he left the throne? Why didn't he have the courage to strangle Maxwell when he showed up at the camp? Why did he accept the presence of a dangerous enemy nearby so quickly?

The scientist was the biggest idiot of all the worlds in existence.

The two built separate tents for sleeping, but after the last incident involving a fire hound, Maxwell's tent caught fire. This didn't mean any change in routine, as the magician continued to sleep outdoors on his bedroll. Until the snow started to fall.

"Ok, let's share the tent until we find more resources."

It was getting very difficult to deal with. The emotional effort was so great that Wilson felt his sanity drain every time he thought about it. It was eating him up inside.

"Higgsbury?" the magician touched his shoulder gently one night. "Are you crying?"

"Ugh...!" the scientist tried to disguise his sobs, with no success. "Leave me alone, Maxwell!"

"I can do this, pal." the older man took a long breath. "But... is this what you really want?"

Damn the demon in pinestriped suit, he could read Wilson like an open book. Was it because they were soulmates?

"Listen." the magician's voice was soft, as was the hand on the shorter man's shoulder. “I could spend the whole night telling my side of the story, how lonely I was all my life for not meeting my soulmate, but is that going to do any good? Will you feel an ounce of empathy for me or even forgive me? I think not. But... well, you don't have to forgive or like me, pal.”

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that..." he sighed. "... I mean that we can both be together tonight, and any other nights if you want, but that doesn't mean we need to be really 'lovers', not even 'friends'. Do you understand what I say?”

The scientist let one sob escape, but nodded. He knew very well what that meant.

Without saying a word, he turned his face towards the magician. He had red eyes from crying. With a sad smile, Maxwell raised a hand to a flushed cheek and approached.

His kiss was soft and affectionate. And even though it was chaste, it was enough to turn Wilson's legs into jelly. If he were on his feet, he would fall to the ground. He groaned softly and Maxwell took that as an encouragement, tracing the smaller man's thin lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss soon after.

After a few minutes, the two faced each other. None of them smiled.

"Ok." Wilson said at last. "B-but... it doesn't mean...!"

"I know." Maxwell cut him off, wrapping him in his long arms. "I know, pal."

That night, Wilson felt a comfort he had never felt in his life. And he knew that, for the life in him, he could never walk away from his enemy's body heat again. And that, never again, their souls could be separated.


End file.
